在他的眼里

Like every other Sunday morning， my best friend， Patty， dropped my godchildren， Jeremiah and Rachel， off at my apartment around 6：30 a.m. before she went on her way to work.

And， just like every other Sunday morning， we all went back to sleep for a couple of hours. When everyone awoke I made a quick breakfast and then the four of us， my husband， Larry， the kids and myself， hurried and got ourselves out the door for church， just like every other Sunday morning.

It wasnt until we walked through the church doors and I saw the girl standing there passing out flowers that I remembered this wasnt like every other Sunday morning， it was Mothers Day.

Before I could stop him， Jeremiah， always the curious child， went up to the girl and tugged on her arm. “Linda， what are you doing？” He asked.

Linda smiled at him and said brightly “Im giving a flower to every mother in church today because its Mothers day.”

Jeremiahs eyes grew bright. “My mom had to work today. Can I have a flower to take home to give her？”

I was so proud of him at that moment. Jeremiah was often hyper， and it was sometimes hard for him to remember to speak slowly and ask for things politely when he was excited. But he had been the perfect little gentleman when he asked for that flower.

“Of course.” Linda answered， and lowered the box she was holding so that Jeremiah could pick out a flower for Patty.

Jeremiah turned towards me， proudly holding a pink carnation in his hand. He smiled at me. His dark eyes danced with pride and love and excitement. I smiled at him and motioned for him to come with me so we could go take our seats in church， but instead， he turned back towards Linda.“Can I please have a flower for Aunt Kimmie too？”

I felt my breath catch somewhere in my chest. That was the last thing I had expected Jeremiah to do. It was one of the sweetest and most sincere things I had ever heard him say. But neither of us was ready for what happened next.

“Oh， no， Jeremiah. She cant have a flower. She isnt a mom.” Linda replied.

I watched as all the joy Jeremiah had been feeling left his face. Gone was his bright smile. Those sparkling eyes of his turned troubled. There was now a confused， pain-filled little boy standing where， just seconds ago， a very happy child had stood.

My heart broke in about a million pieces， but not for myself， for Jeremiah. His heart was broken， and my heart ached for him.

But my heart was also full because， in that incredibly insensitive moment， I found out how much Jeremiah loved me and how much I meant to him.

I may not have been his mom， but it was my apartment he came to after school several days a week while Patty worked. I was the one that fixed his meals and gave him his favorite Popsicles. I always read him stories and sang songs to him. I calmed his fears and chased away the monsters when he had a bad dream， and， I was the keeper of the band-aids when he was hurt. I was the one that was there when Patty couldnt be. In Jeremiahs eyes， I might not have been his mom， but I was just as important as his own mother was. And， he always affectionately called me， “Aunt Kimmie”， even though I wasnt.

I shot Linda a look as I took Jeremiah by the hand and urged him to come with me. She started to say something， but at that point I didnt trust myself to respond kindly to her， so I turned my back and walked away. Perhaps it wasnt the Christian thing to do， but walking away beat the few choice un-Christian words I wanted to say to her instead.

The rest of that morning Jeremiah was quiet and withdrawn. When we got back home from church I got out my prettiest vase so he could keep that pink carnation in it and give it to Patty when she came for him. But his enthusiasm had been crushed; the joy he had felt had been robbed from him. And I didnt know how to fix it for him.

That afternoon after nap time， Jeremiah and Rachel went outside to play in the courtyard of our apartment building. I was in the kitchen making dinner for everyone when I heard the front door open. Jeremiah slowly came to the doorway of the kitchen， his hands behind his back.

“Aunt Kimmie，” he said softly， “You deserve something for Mothers day.” I knelt down in front of him as he pulled out a handful of fresh picked dandelions and gave them to me. I felt tears on my cheeks as I gathered him in my arms and hugged him tightly.“I love you， Aunt Kimmie.”

“I love you， too， Jeremiah.” And， I couldnt have loved him more if he had been my own son.

清晨六點半左右，和往常的星期天一样，我最好的朋友帕蒂在她去上班之前，将我的两个教子女杰里迈亚和瑞秋扔在了我的公寓。

和以往任何一个星期天一样，我们又都回到床上多睡了几个小时的回笼觉。赶在他们起床前，我迅速地做好了早餐。吃完早餐后，我和丈夫拉里还有孩子们就急急忙忙地出门去教堂做礼拜，就和以往任何一个星期天一样。

直到我们走过教堂门口，我看见有个女孩站在那儿给每个路过的人分发花朵，我才记起来，今天并不同于以往任何一个星期天。因为今天是母亲节。

杰里迈亚是个好奇心很强的孩子，我还没来得及阻止他，他就径直走向那个女孩，拉了拉她的手臂，问：“琳达，你在这儿干嘛呢？”

琳达冲着他微笑，明朗地说：“我在这给每一个来教堂做礼拜的妈妈送花，因为今天是母亲节。”

杰里迈亚两眼放光。“我妈妈今天还得上班没能来。可以给我一朵花带回家去送給她吗？”

那一刻，我为他感到很自豪。杰里迈亚经常都处于亢奋状态，对于他来说，在情绪激动的情况下还能记得慢条斯理地说话、彬彬有礼地向别人要东西，着实不易。但就在刚刚他问女孩要那朵花儿时，他表现得就像一个完美的小绅士。

“当然。”琳达答道，然后她把手里的盒子放低，让杰里迈亚为他妈妈帕蒂挑选一朵花。

杰里迈亚转向我的时候，手里拿着一支粉色康乃馨，洋洋得意的样子。他朝我微笑。乌黑的眼睛里洋溢着骄傲、爱意和兴奋。我也笑着回应他，示意他过来和我一起去教堂里找个位置坐下。但他没有，他转过身去，面对着琳达。“我可以再要一朵花送给金米姨妈吗？”

我感觉我的心揪了一下。我从未料到杰里迈亚会这么做。目前为止，这是我从他口中听到的最暖心最真挚的话。然而，接下来发生的事却让我们都措手不及。

“噢，不行，杰里迈亚。她不能拿花。因为她不是母亲。”琳达这么回答道。

顿时，我看到之前在杰里迈亚脸上洋溢着的快乐一扫而空。随之消散的还有他明亮的笑容。他原本闪烁的双眸被不安所笼罩。此刻，站在原地的是一个满脸困惑、内心痛苦的小男孩，可是就在几秒之前，他还是无比快乐的。

我的心已碎得不像样，但并不是为我自己，而是为杰里迈亚。我知道他的心灵受到了打击，我为他感到心痛。

但是，我的心在碎的同时却又是完整的，因为，就在那个毫无人情味的瞬间，我才知道，原来杰里迈亚爱我如此之深，原来我对他来说如此重要。

也许我从不曾是他的妈妈，但一周有好几天他放学后都会来我家，因为有时帕蒂要工作没法照顾他。为他做饭、给他买最喜欢的冰棍的人是我;总是给他读故事、唱歌的人是我;他做了恶梦，为他赶走怪物、驱散恐惧的人是我;他受伤时，为他贴上创可贴的人还是我。我是那个在帕蒂缺席时陪在他身边的人。在杰里迈亚的眼里，也许我从不曾是他的妈妈，但我对于他来说，和他妈妈同样重要。他总是会亲昵地叫我：“金米姨妈”，即使我并不是他的姨妈。

当拉起杰里迈亚的手催促他跟我走的时候，我瞪了琳达一眼。她好像要解释些什么，但那一刻我不能指望自己会做出友好的反应，所以我头也没回地走了。也许作为一个基督徒我不该就这么走开，但是这么做却让我忍住没对她说出几个更出格的词语。

那天早上发生了那件事以后，杰里迈亚就一直很安静，一声不吭。从教堂回到家后，我把我最漂亮的花瓶拿给他，让他把那支粉色的康乃馨放在里面，等帕蒂来接他时送给她。然而他的热情已经完全被摧毁了;那个女孩的话夺走了他的快乐。我不知道要怎么做才能补救这个局面。

午休过后，杰里迈亚和瑞秋在我们公寓前的庭院玩耍。我正在厨房里准备晚餐，突然，我听到前门打开的声音。只见杰里迈亚慢慢地走到厨房门口，双手背在他的身后。

“金米姨妈，”他轻声说道，“今天是母亲节，你应该要收到礼物。”我弯下膝盖跪下来与他在同一水平线上，他从身后拿出一束刚刚摘的蒲公英要送给我。我把他紧紧拥入怀中，泪水从脸颊滑落。“我爱你，金米姨妈。”

“我也爱你，杰里迈亚。”其实，我爱他一直就像爱自己的孩子一样。